


Half Baked

by theprydonian_archivist



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-04
Updated: 2008-03-04
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprydonian_archivist/pseuds/theprydonian_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master didn't <b>[SPOILER]</b> and instead went gallivanting around the universe with the Doctor.  Hilarity ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Baked

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Prydonian](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Prydonian). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [The Prydonian collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/theprydonian/profile).

-  
Half Baked  
-

It was good to see his friends again, Jack thought. Well, his friend and his mortal enemy. But the reason for their visit was, he had to admit, a bit bizarre even by Torchwood standards.

"I can't take it anymore." the Master groused. "I just _can't!_ "

"Being his prisoner?"

"Yes, well, that too. But now he's _banned me from the kitchen!_ "

"Well, there are knives in there," Jack explained in his most reasonable, calm-the-sociopath-down voice.

"It's not the knives," the Doctor interrupted. "The Master with a knife I can deal with. What am I saying -- the Master with _tactical nukes_ I can deal with. It's the maniacal laughter."

"He laughs in the kitchen?"

"Yes. Drives me crazy."

"Not a long drive," the Master snapped.

"Shut up. So. As I was saying before I was so _rudely interrupted_ , he drives me crazy. I was hoping I could leave him here with you for a while."

_No no no no no_ "I'm not sure that's-"

"It'll be fine. Just _fine!_ I'll be back for him before long, and if he gives you any trouble you can feed him to the Weevil. He might even regenerate into someone nice for a change. Just keep him out of the kitchen."

Back to that again. "The Master? In the kitchen? What exactly does he-"

"He cooks. Bakes, to be precise. He bakes bread. And he _laughs_."

"Seems pretty harmless to me. I mean, compared with what he did before..."

"Billions dead," the Master whispered, leaning in so his lips were within an inch of the Doctor's ear. "Billions!"

"See?" the Doctor whined, "He's doing it again!"

"Yes, yes," Jack turned his calming voice on the Doctor now. "But that's all in the past. Only not exactly the past, because it's paradoxed, but, well you know what I mean..." Jack wasn't sure _he_ knew what he meant, and thinking about it just gave him a headache.

"No, no, no he still does it! Again and again! Billions dead, and he just laughs!"

"Maniacally," the Master added helpfully. "BWAhahahahaha!"

"Thank you," Jack said without much sincerity. He turned to the Doctor. "Now why don't you tell me what this is really about."

\---

"Yeast breads?" Jack muttered in disbelief. "You came to ask my advice because of _yeast breads?!?!_ "

"Yes! He slaughters helpless yeasts by the billions! Cruelly bakes them to death for his amusement and laughs as he does it! I can't even _eat_ yeast breads anymore and it's _his fault!_ "

"Now just a minute! He's revoked my kitchen privileges, taking away my one and only creative outlet. He even confiscated my yeast and released it into the wild on a warm swampy planet. Wanted to 'make amends' by giving them a long and happy life. I swear in a billion years or so they'll be taking over the galaxy and then where will we be? I just want to bake bread," the Master pleaded. "Is that so wrong?"

"You'll get your turn," Jack shusshed him. "Now Doctor. You say you don't eat bread anymore? Because of cruelty to... yeast?

"Billions of living creatures, slaughtered. I won't have their blood on my hands. Not going through that again..."

"Yeasts don't have blood," the Master sneered.

"Their _figurative_ blood, then. I won't have their _figurative_ blood on my _figurative_ hands. Happy now?"

"No. I won't be happy until I'm pounding out a nice soft loaf of bread dough. Bam! Bam! _Bam!_ " The Master made punching and kneading gestures with his hands. "Until I can hear the screams of a billion tiny yeasts begging for mercy-"

The Doctor's eyes widened. "You can _hear_ them?"

"Their _figurative_ screams. Rassilon! You're pathetic. I liked you better as a dog."

"Yeah? Well I liked _you_ better as a rotting corpse!"

"Why you-" the Master lunged at the Doctor and wrestled him to the floor. "Take it back! Take it back!"

"No!"

"Children, behave!" Jack forced them apart and turned to leave. "I think I can come up with a solution that will please both of you."

\---

_"Sourdough breads?!?!"_

"It's perfect," Jack announced. "Master, you'll get to mercilessly bake helpless yeasts to death every week. And Doctor, you'll get to _rescue_ yeasts every week, save them from certain doom and lovingly nurture them along. Every week." He placed the tub of sourdough starter on the console. "What do you say?"

The Doctor already had the lid open and was grinning beatifically at its contents. "Awwww, who's a good little microorganism?" he cooed. "You? Yes you aaaaaare! And you! Oh yes. And yooooou...!"

The Master was harder to convince. "Do I still get to laugh maniacally while I kill them?"

The Doctor glared at him and hugged the little tub protectively.

"Don't push it," Jack said.

"Weeeeeeell, I don't know. If I don't get to laugh maniacally..."

"Billions dead at your hands, and you get to kill them over and over again, and you _don't know?_ " Jack shook his head sadly. "Where's the Master that used to kill _me_ over and over again just for fun? Tsk tsk. I think being his prisoner for so long has made you soft-"

The Master grabbed the tub of starter away from the Doctor, and the look on his face was murderous. "Soft? I'll show you who's _soft!_ " He leered at the glop in the tub. "You're going to die, do you hear me? DIIIIIE! And then I'm going to EAT YOU! BWAhahahaha!"

Jack smiled and winked at the Doctor. His plan had worked perfectly.

-  
Epilogue  
-

Jack had just stepped out of the TARDIS and was feeling smug -- like he used to feel after running a particularly successful con -- when he saw a frantic Toshiko running toward him. She hurriedly pressed a computer printout into his hands. His face fell as he scanned it quickly and then dashed back inside. "Don't leave yet!" he yelled. "Yeast Monsters are invading Cardiff!"

The Doctor paled. "What have I done?!?!"

-  
Appendix  
-

Wikipedia has a very informative page about sourdough that includes links to sites with sourdough bread recipes and tips for establishing and nurturing your own yeast/lactobacillus cultures for use as starter. I also enjoyed S. John Ross' sourdough bread page.

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Postscript  
-

If anyone actually bakes anything as a result of reading this fic, please mention it in a comment. I'd love to hear how it went. 


End file.
